


Wake Up, Sweet Prince

by slightlykathish



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 04:48:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20383927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slightlykathish/pseuds/slightlykathish
Summary: “It is a force greater than you or I can understand... love.”A reimagining of “Sweet Dreams” (Season 2 Episode 10), if Merlin had broken Arthur’s enchantment with a kiss instead of Gwen.





	Wake Up, Sweet Prince

**Author's Note:**

> I’m still in season 2 of Merlin!!! I want to read the fics and enjoy the memes so bad but alas, spoilers. So I’ve written my own until I can see what the rest of the fandom has to offer.

“It is a force greater than you or I can understand…” What does that mean? What could I have in common with this beast?  
“A force that has puzzled many minds.” Why does he always stall! And while Arthur is about to be fought to his death. If only there was someone who knew the answers and that liked me enough to answer my questions.  
“Please, I have very little time.” Arthur. My mind races with only thoughts of Arthur. Sure it might do that all the time, but now even moreso.  
“A force-”  
“Just tell me!” Arthur is in danger, I have no time to spare sharing riddles with this beast who cares not about me.  
“Why, it is the greatest force of all: Love.”  
Wait, what? “Love?”  
“You must find the person Arthur truly loves.” You’re kidding.  
“And then what?” That would be easy. Easier than you could possibly understand.  
“One kiss from her will break the enchantment. And he will desire Vivian no more.”

“Easy,” I mumble to myself as I try to calm my breathing, running up those blasted steps.  
But no, nothing could ever be easy. Not with Arthur. Oh the lovers in his arsenal! And none of them would be keen to work with me.  
Obviously Vivian is out of the question, he never felt a true feeling of love toward the woman.  
So, Morgana...they have their differences, but they are more or less betrothed to one another. Do they love each other? No, most of the time they can hardly stand the others’ presence.  
Gwen? I have to laugh. After her infatuation with Lancelot and Arthur leaving her out to dry with his princely attitude one too many times... Even if she was the one he most desired she would never agree to help me just for Arthur’s sake. So who? Who could Arthur possibly care about, more than himself? Who does Arthur yearn to rule a kingdom with? Who does Arthur think about growing old with? Who does Arthur wish to lie with in the middle of the night, after I blow out the candles...

I can think no longer as I near Arthur’s tent and see him ready to battle for his love, his heart, his Lady Vivian. Though I haven't any time to wish him luck before he’s frollicking off to the arena with his mace, ready for combat with Cupid clouding his eyes.  
“I hope you’ve thought of a solution, Merlin. Or I can’t bare to think of the short future awaiting our prince,” Gaius says before exiting the tent to watch the match.  
My heart stops as I observe the fight from the entrance of the tent. The clash of the maces’ chain. The scratch of its spikes against Arthur’s shield. He’s such an excellent fighter! And yet he’s losing this battle round after round. It’s all I can do to not call out to him, just as the gong tolls. And just like that, Arthur is safe for a moment's time, as is my fragile heart.

He leaps off the ground with too much energy for a dead man walking and heads for the tent. “You’ll be okay, it’s only Arthur.” I start off, pacing and talking to myself... “Your good pal Arthur, your loyal master, your exquisitely handsome love-” Nope! I’m jabbering, no good to jabber, Arthur tells me I tend to talk too much when I’ve got something on my mind...he knows me so well.  
“Merlin! I’m glad you’ve decided to grace me with your presence,” Arthur says with his usual playful voice, wondering where I’ve been yet again.  
“Have you come to finally wish me luck? Cause I really don’t think I need it anymore,” he smirks at me, no doubt thinking of Vivian.  
“No, Arthur, I have not come to wish you luck.” I’ve got to be honest, haven’t I? No good relationship is built on lies, after all.  
“Honestly that’s rather rude…” he sounds, almost sad with me. Like I’ve hurt his feelings by not caring about his efforts. And a part of him is right, I’ve never cared about something less. Arthur’s newfound affections for Vivian have driven me mad and I would like nothing more than to see them over and done with, but not by the means of Arthur’s death.

“Then let me make amends.” This is it, my moment to put everything aside and simply show myself to Arthur. Every bit of my nervous energy is pushing me forward as I place a delicate hand on Arthur's strong shoulder and my god are his shoulders strong.  
I push him against the tent pole as I steal a kiss. A kiss that I have wanted for so, so long. Yet I feel his hesitation, I feel the spell pushing back on me until it is no longer magic, but Arthur himself pushing back. I can feel the spell dissipate into thin air as Arthur wraps his arms around my lithe frame, bending toward me, chasing my kiss. I feel a sudden rush of emotions: love for Arthur, surprise that my kiss actually worked, wonder that the Crown Prince of Camelot, Arthur Pendragon, would be kissing me back, and such content that finally my prayers have been answered and my thoughts of ‘what if’ sated.

He starts kissing me in earnest, one hand grasping my hair and another around my waist as he moves his mouth. Lips soft as the wind fluttering the tent flaps, but passion as hard and daring as Arthur’s sword on a hunt.  
Feeling my task complete I pull back, now literally on my back as Arthur seems to be holding me in his arms in a dip, to see my love in all his glory. He looks his normal: confused and stupid as ever, but with a new gentlness in his eye, awoken by my kiss.  
That is before he writhes in pain. With the spell broken his mind is moving in fast forward, trying to catch up to the actions of his body, the pain of his broken ribs, and the stress from the games. It all hits him as he staggers into my arms.  
“What am I doing?” His question makes my palms sweat, what is he doing with me? Or in this general situation? That’s probably it, not everything is about me, be general Merlin.  
“You’re in a fight. To the death. And you’re losing.”  
“But…”  
“There’s no time to explain. Just… live for me, Arthur. That’s all I ask right now.”

The horns blast and I take up his armor as usual. Tightening leather straps and straightening chainmail, but I can see Arthur touch his fingers to his lips. My face is bright red, no doubt, as I think through my embarrassment about how stupid I was to act on such a whim. Anybody could have come in, could have seen us. Anybody could have seen the way I kissed the prince, the way he held me tightly. Anybody could have heard his breath hitch, seen the love in his eyes…   
“If anything should happen to me look after yourself. The world may think you just a servant...dispensable. But you are not dispensable to me,” Arthur says as he dons his helmet and turns to the arena. It may not have sounded like a confession, but ‘not dispensable to me’ was a breath of fresh air after taking second place to Vivian all week, after feeling dispensable to a man with every resource at his will. ‘Look after yourself’ is a confession fit to make a reckless man like myself swoon, as Arthur jogs into the arena.

As much as I want to sit front row, I stay on the side of the crowd, ready to cast an enchantment at a moments notice if the need arises, if Arthur needs my help.  
He’s uncharacteristically unsteady on his feet, no doubt aching in his ribs, but he handles himself fiercely and with the grace of a knight of Camelot.  
He catches my eye during a pause in their battle and I feel what Vivian must have felt. To be seen by the prince, it’s enough to make a man feel like a prince in his own right.  
Just as the butterflies have taken hold of my stomach they turn into coal and sink; Arthur falls to the ground and his helmet is knocked off. Eyes already glowing, I’m about to cast a spell, any spell to help Arthur when he rolls out from under Olaf’s sword and kicks him up and over his whole body. What a man. And Arthur, in all his dirt and sweat covered glory, stands above Olaf. As his shoulders heave with heavy breaths, his blond hair plastered against his forehead with sweat, and with his square jaw clenched, he releases his ironclad grip on his sword. He shows mercy, the mercy of a man destined for greatness.  
“This is no way to achieve peace,” he says, ever the diplomat and it’s all I can do to not weep at the sight as he extends a hand to Olaf and the crowd goes wild.  
He seeks for my eye in the crowd and the grateful nod he gives me feels like I could be made of clouds.

As he leaves his adoring fans and enters his tent to dress, I am there as I always am awaiting his needs. He speaks not, but simply hands me a rose after I help his highness undress from his chainmail armor. As I make to leave his tent, he catches my hand in his and starts to speak in a smaller voice than I’ve ever heard from the prince, “you must believe that my feelings for Vivian were not real. I have never loved another.” I am never at a loss for words, Arthur would be the first to tell me this, but with my throat tight all I’m able to get out is a shaky “nor I,” as I squeeze his hand in mine.

“My heart will remain, and I hope to join it soon!” Vivian cries as her father drags her from the castle grounds.  
I have had enough of Vivian to last a lifetime, “not too soon” I mumble as she stares at Arthur even atop her horse.  
Arthur raises an eyebrow at me as we turn toward the steps of the castle, “no, it might conflict with your one true love.”   
“My what?” I ask, feigning ignorance but blushing nonetheless.  
“You heard me, I have proof,” Arthur says in that smug voice he uses to prove me wrong.  
“Proof?” Two can play at that game, I shall be as aloof and mysterious as Arthur in my answers  
“You kissed me in the tent.” So much for being mysterious.  
“And I’d do it again,” is all I say after that as we make our way into the castle, not knowing what lies ahead, but hoping we face it all together. And as Arthur walks closer to me than usual, I think that maybe I’ll come to understand love’s great force after all.

**Author's Note:**

> This is not only my first Merlin fic but my first ao3 fic! I used to write on wattpad but that was a Long time ago and I’m happy to have the chance to get into it here! ❤️


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